


even strokes

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Series: card fills [8]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: It’s the first time in an hour Chanyeol’s been close enough to see the tiny paint flecks across Junmyeon’s nose and cheek and brow and-howis he so messy. Always so goddamn messy. If Chanyeol hated that they wouldn’t be moving in together.





	even strokes

**Author's Note:**

> [kink bingo card fill ▲ prompt: wet/messy/dirty]
> 
>  
> 
> messy twt fic expanded on to get wet and dirty too (*´-`) this is also probably a blackout on ‘jay definitely wrote this’ bingo. and a domestic fic trying to disguise itself as pwp. I only wanted it to be a drabble BUT HERE WE ARE as usual, bless the 'no plot' tag for existing  
> (it’s also the first quick-ish thing I’ve managed since practically a year of on-off hiatus and writing like a snail so that’s. good news if suyeol being a useless romo/aro pair is your thing [thumbs up emoji]  
> ((the title is a painting pun I hope you groaned when you realised it’s a pun. there’s very little porn in here (つω｀*)

“I want to go home,” Junmyeon whines, bumping the toe of his shoe against the step ladder Chanyeol is three rungs up.  
  
Chanyeol keeps painting. If he doesn’t even the strokes out now it’ll look bad when it’s dry. “This is home.”  
  
Another kick to the ladder. “ _Home_ home. I’m hungry. I need feeding,” Junmyeon’s so cute when he’s sulking. Chanyeol’s not ignoring him purposely to make him grumpy - that’s just a bonus. “Chanyeollie, take me to eat on the way back.”  
  
Chanyeol hums like he’s considering it. He’ll only need to move the ladder once more to finish up this whole wall, so like hell he’s going to stop right now just for some pouting.  
  
“I won’t cook for myself when I get back,” Junmyeon continues. There’s a small hole snagged in the knee of Chanyeol’s sweats, at eye level with Junmyeon. He hooks the tip of his finger in and tugs. “I’m too tired. And we worked so hard today. I’ll just lie down and die, probably. Of starvation. Fading away.“  
  
“Don’t want that,” Chanyeol mutters, focused on filling in the last strip of wall that’s still showing specks of the dull wallpaper. When he finally props the brush back in the tray and steps down the ladder Junmyeon’s as happy to see him as if he’d been stuck up there for a week.  
  
Once the last of the painting is done the place - _their_ place - will be ready to move the rest of the furniture into. With both of them spending what time off they can get here and teaming up on weekends it’s been a pretty quick job. They stay here painting with Junmyeon’s iPod playlists for motivation until long after dark, and usually that’s fine.  
  
Junmyeon’s sudden loss of enthusiasm may have something to do with the spray of paint down the side of his face, from his hair to the neck of his shirt and wiped out of the corner of his mouth. He’s had enough of cream paint for one day.  
  
“Help me finish this wall. Then food.” Chanyeol promises, shifting the ladder along. “I’ll even escort you home, how’s that?”  
  
Junmyeon moves the tin of paint and his own tray along the covered floor with a sigh. “You can’t stay over.”  
  
“Who said I expected to be invited in?” Chanyeol pouts. “I was just being chivalrous. Anyway, according to you you’ve barely even got the energy to get up the stairs.”  
  
“Even if you did all the work-” Junmyeon looks far too dubious as he says that, “-you can’t stay. Last day of the month tomorrow.” Which means Junmyeon’s work will need him in an hour early and won’t let him leave until everything is tied up and accounted for. Chanyeol grimaces in sympathy at the reminder. All he’ll be doing is going to class like usual, working on his painting (more painting, but painting he likes). Having a nicer time than Junmyeon for sure.  
  
Well, anyway, they’ll live here soon. A lifetime of sleepovers.  
  
“Only one room left, at least, so we’re nearly done. Thank god, I’m sick of looking at this paint,” Chanyeol raises his tone slightly, like he hopes it can hear. Junmyeon just hums, nudging the tray a little further with the toe of his shoe.  
  
(They’d argued about the undertone of the colour, whether it should be yellow and cosy or green to look modern. Chanyeol’s studied colour theory, after all, and adamantly stood his ground even when they were in the store. The green toned one. He was happy to resort to planting himself in front of the shelf and not moving until Junmyeon agreed. They’d come out at short notice - he was the one with money in his pocket.  
  
“That girl,” Junmyeon had pouted, “From- when, 2011? We decorated her whole apartment in what you want because she thought it’d come out like this, but it doesn’t,” he pointed to the chart, four shades brighter than Chanyeol’s choice.  
  
“What was her name?”  
  
“It- was seven years ago? I don’t know. Who cares, I’m just saying, this colour will look bad because I’ve tried it.”  
  
Chanyeol folded his arms over his chest. He doesn’t like that. Maybe Junmyeon thinks it makes his affections for Chanyeol sound deeper when he dismisses that anyone before him mattered. He doesn’t like when Junmyeon talks about lives he’s dipped in and out of as though sharing a space and a bed and a year of memories is so easy to detach from. Not that Chanyeol’s entitled to be sad about relationships he knows nothing about. He still gets enough residual sadness about his own when something reminds him of them, and Junmyeon can only playfully pretend that he actually minds Chanyeol moping about warm June days holding a different boy’s hand.  
  
Chanyeol ducked his head down, shadow of his cap over his twisted mouth. “And you moved in with her?”  
  
And Junmyeon remembered, then, just how much Chanyeol cares about everyone and everything, and if he’d told Chanyeol her name when they’d met four years ago he’d still know it now. And what to Junmyeon is just paint on a wall is more to Chanyeol, because everything is more to him. So much. Too much for Junmyeon; he’s happy to balance Chanyeol’s excessive empathy out with a slight lack of his own.  
  
They bought three tins of _Apple Slice_.)  
  
This damn paint, it at least looks cute on Junmyeon. He’s certainly not as methodical about painting as Chanyeol is and it’s all over him, drips on his shirt and sweats and the tops of his shoes, smears up his arms. The footprints on the dust sheets are all his. The bright specks in his dark hair look kind of pretty, really, like dew on a leaf.  
  
“A what?” Junmyeon laughs, “You and your poetic mind. A leaf,” he shakes his head, smiling up at Chanyeol as he takes the paint tray from him. It’s the first time in an hour Chanyeol’s been close enough to see the tiny flecks across Junmyeon’s nose and cheek and brow and- _how_ is he so messy. Always so goddamn messy. If Chanyeol hated that they wouldn’t be moving in together.  
  
“Junmyeon, hey,” Chanyeol rests an elbow on the top of the ladder and his jaw on his hand, watching his tiny, messy boyfriend carefully refill the tray. He didn’t have any plans to say what he’s suddenly thinking- hasn’t even really considered it before now, honestly, but Junmyeon’s stubby fingers are brushing more paint into his hair than out of it and Chanyeol’s heart is _squeezed_ , “Once we’re all done and moved in here, do you think you’d be ok marrying me?”  
  
They’ve never really discussed it at any point in all of this. Chanyeol’s a romantic and Junmyeon is awful, but they’ve lasted this long. And, well, it’s out there now.  
  
“F-“ Junmyeon’s eyes are wide. “For tax purposes..?”  
  
“No, Junmyeon, for the usual reason people marry each other,” Chanyeol replies flatly. He isn’t mad - it shows in his eyes when he’s mad - that Junmyeon’s first thought isn’t flowers and love hearts. Junmyeon abruptly flushes so hot that he can feel how cool the room is compared to the burn coming off his skin. Chanyeol really just loves him a whole lot. Enough to just, look at him tired and messy and think that, that’s-  
  
“I didn’t mean- you surprised me,” he fumbles, “I know you’d mean for the.. the usual reason, it just..came out.” Junmyeon doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s a cynical idiot, but Chanyeol already knows that, so he just helplessly moves in for an apologetic hug. Chanyeol scowls, pushes him back. He still isn’t really mad, Junmyeon’s pretty sure, even with his head spinning. It’s not like the suggestion is too early or out of line with their future plans or anything, just, “I never- you know, just, me?”  
  
Junmyeon isn’t the marrying type, no, but he’s also definitely not the type to expect someone to _want_ to marry him. For the usual reasons. If it was a tax thing he’d understand, at least. The room comes back into sharp focus when something cold and wet touches his cheek. Two of Chanyeol’s fingers dipped in paint, leaving a smear of cream over Junmyeon’s deep pink skin. That- that’s fair.  
  
“I was suggesting, not proposing,” Chanyeol clarifies. He tries to dot the end of Junmyeon’s nose, but he ducks away and ends up with his ear streaked instead. Wiping his fingers off on his shirt, Chanyeol watches Junmyeon out the corner of his eye. “We talk everything through first, I wouldn’t just spring that on you. Just thought I’d let you know I was thinking about it, so you could think about it too, maybe. Or not?”  
  
Junmyeon nods. “I’ll think about it. If you still want to,” he smiles sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck with his fingertips. Chanyeol sighs that no, he doesn’t, who’d really want to marry someone as awful as Junmyeon anyway, and opens up to let Junmyeon bury in against his chest this time.  
  
This is just how life is right now - hectic, paint splattered, swaying together to soothe away a long day. Soon they’ll be settled. Undoubtedly Chanyeol’s romanticising the whole process along the way anyway.  
  
“Tell you what. You’re forgiven and I’ll still marry you on two conditions,” Chanyeol taps Junmyeon’s shoulder twice. He grumbles at being prodded, but Chanyeol only wrestling him away once was surprising considering what a dick move Junmyeon just pulled.  
  
“Only two?” Junmyeon digs both hands in at Chanyeol’s waist. He grips handfuls of his shirt on either side, pulling back enough to look up and meet Chanyeol’s eye. “What’s the first one?”  
  
“I can put the couch where I want.”  
  
Easy enough. Junmyeon had been anticipating having to make some promise about matching tattoos or taking on the Park name or something. He shrugs agreement and nestles back in. He’s just the right height to rest on Chanyeol’s collarbone. Under the paint fumes and sweat from a days work he still faintly smells of peonies. Being in love still doesn’t exactly come to Junmyeon easily; a lot of these things- they’re love, and he feels kind of stupid when he’s had to realise it in as many words.

“Two,“ another prod, this time straight into Junmyeon’s ribs, “Invite me in when I take you home.”  
  
That’s.. “Yeollie, I can’t tonight,” Junmyeon takes a step back, frowning, “You know why.”  
  
Chanyeol knows and usually makes a fuss of Junmyeon on his longest day of the month, if anything, making sure he isn’t working too hard and sleeping too little. He just pouts adamantly, and Junmyeon loosens his hold on Chanyeol’s shirt. It’s not like Chanyeol to be unfair, even if he’s grouchy.  
  
It is like Chanyeol to talk around the point, though.  
  
The room they’re in is probably going to be for storage and maybe guests (or more likely their combined manga collection). There are no blinds up yet and a naked bulb casting stark white light, but outside the window there’s just a brick wall. No view out, unless you really crane to see. No way anyone can see in, either. It’s bright and exposing but there’s no one to see Junmyeon being steered to the unpainted strip of wall, or the fumbling and grappling that follows when Chanyeol abruptly drops to his knees.  
  
Inviting Chanyeol in is only an implication of what happens next, and apparently it’s also just code for that part too. For someone who’s supposed to be earning forgiveness, Junmyeon’s not sure why he’s getting this instead.  
  
“Not here-“ If it was supposed to sound like a command Junmyeon’s failed miserably, his tongue all clumsy in his mouth. The whole room is a hazard and Junmyeon’s track record with getting paint everywhere but on the walls hasn’t been so great today.  
  
Either Chanyeol’s read his mind or the worry is that clear on Junmyeon’s face. “Yes here, we’d walk paint through. Just don’t you dare touch the wall,” he says with no real threat. His focus is on stroking Junmyeon through the soft fabric of his sweats. Thick and hard in no time at all, because Junmyeon’s too easy and kind of useless like that. This is a bad idea, probably, but Junmyeon’s focus is pretty much all there now too. Useless.  
  
Wet paint either side of him, right. Just don’t touch it. Junmyeon doesn’t want to get in any more trouble than he already is. (Unless he does? If this is what happens).  
  
Chanyeol never has and probably never will figure out how to give good head, though _good_ is pretty subjective. He relies more on enthusiasm than technique, and that Junmyeon likes his big hands and long tongue and the way Chanyeol’s so eager he never learns his limits. It’s subjective, yeah, and it’s messy and sloppy and Junmyeon’s toes curl the second time Chanyeol takes him too deep and chokes. He jerks back spluttering, his free hand pressing into Junmyeon’s stomach and Junmyeon’s hand instinctively clasping over it to squeeze.  
  
Does he even know what he looks like? Looking up at Junmyeon with his wet puppy eyes. Wet lips and chin and dark soaked-through spots on his shirt. Probably; it’s Chanyeol’s idea of fun, and it’s not like Junmyeon isn’t supposed to be suffering. Good thing they did this in the room with dust sheets down after all.  
  
For a moment Chanyeol stays kneeling back on his heels, catching his breath. Drool is hanging in strings off his chin, but Junmyeon’s right hand is gripping his left and he’s not letting up his hold around the base of Junmyeon’s dick just to wipe it away. It’s kind of disgusting, but so is Junmyeon to be fair, and that’s why subjectively Chanyeol’s better at this than he has any right.  
  
“Don’t I owe you?” Junmyeon blurts while he has the focus. Usually he’s more in control of his words - calls Chanyeol his best boy, shushes him when his eyes water. But usually it isn’t like..this, Junmyeon caught off guard and barely catching his breath, _Chanyeol, Chanyeollie_ \- “But..”  
  
Chanyeol blinks glassy eyes up at him. “You do. Mine and I want it.” His voice is wrecked. There’s still a twinge of something Junmyeon wants to hate about belonging to someone, but that’s how Chanyeol works and Chanyeol belongs to him too - willingly, voluntarily, whether Junmyeon wanted him or not. He really, really, really does. Chanyeol strokes fast and offers his tongue, and that’s all it takes.  
  
Sticky heat streaks Chanyeol’s cheek, upper lip, the edge of his mouth. He makes the sweetest sound in surprise, quickly tilting his head to catch the rest on the flat of his tongue. Junmyeon trembles against the wall when Chanyeol’s mouth seals around him again, swallowing around him. He grips Chanyeol’s shoulders and arches shaky and needy into the wet heat, head dropping back with a thud.  
  
“That..” Junmyeon starts once his head has cleared, but it just trails off into a breathless laugh. That was a mess. He’s not even sure when he started fondly petting Chanyeol’s hair, but it’s a little disappointing when he pulls away.  
  
There’s probably something there about that having been compensation. Or maybe it got some of the tension of a long days work out. Or- wait, Chanyeol has paint in his hair.  
  
It takes a moment for Junmyeon to fully force himself back to his senses, a little dizzy and his legs still trembling. Realising his left hand is sticky comes to him pretty fast. Junmyeon touched the wall. And then Chanyeol’s shoulder, his hair.. not to mention the rest of the mess he got on him. Ah.  
  
“I’m heavy again,” Chanyeol huffs, and Junmyeon notices that he looks kinda unsteady balanced the way he is, “You’re gonna have to get me back up.” He tucks Junmyeon back into his sweats with a little pat to the waistband, then grips Junmyeon’s hips for leverage. Junmyeon helps haul him up from his knees with his clean hand hooked under Chanyeol’s elbow.  
  
Telling Chanyeol is probably better than waiting for him to notice the white specks in his hair. Or on the palm of Junmyeon’s hand. Chanyeol may have had a point with all that scolding. He guiltily starts, “You have..“  
  
Chanyeol stops wiping his chin off on his forearm to give Junmyeon a look, then rolls his eyes. “Hardly the worst thing on me right now.” Hazily Junmyeon wonders if he’d done it on purpose, like..like a challenge, or to prove something, or to earn Junmyeon an extra point to owe him. But then Chanyeol sighs, frowns, gestures to the smudge on the wall. “That was perfect and I have to repaint it now.”  
  
  
“You should, you know,” Chanyeol says, ducking down to pull off his shoes. Junmyeon’s already out of his and out in the hallway, arms tucked tight to his sides to make extra sure there’s no more paint disasters. Chanyeol pads out, smiling at the puzzled pout Junmyeon’s giving him. “You should marry someone who anticipated you’d answer with something like that and still asked.”  
  
Hmm, true. Junmyeon shrugs. “You say that like I wouldn’t marry you for your tongue anyway.”  
  
“Good enough to keep forever?” Chanyeol grins, but he feels tellingly heavy as he leans into Junmyeon’s side. Chanyeol tends to get cuddly, mopey or both after sex. Which is why he wasn’t allowed to stay over tonight, because there’s really never anything quick about it (other than Chanyeol. Low stamina, fast recovery). But they needed to shower and change before heading out anyway, so..yeah, that works in some cuddle time. They both got their own way.  
  
“Towels..” Chanyeol mutters as he goes from cabinet to cupboard to drawer around the bathroom, pushing each shut again with a soft click, “I keep forgetting where everything is here.”  
  
“It’ll get easier once it’s routine,” Junmyeon runs a hand down Chanyeol’s lower back as he steps past. Towels are in the hamper that ended up in the kitchen just to keep it out the way while things are only part moved in. It’s kinda weird sharing an incomplete home, living out little moments and then having to leave again.  
  
Chanyeol has neither started the shower or shed any clothing by the time Junmyeon’s back. He’s just leaning against the sink looking sleepy and spaced out, but he perks up once Junmyeon’s with him again. “So,” he bends in to chin at Junmyeon’s shoulder while he’s checking in the mirror to see how bad the paint damage to his face and hair is, “Shower. Then food, then bedtime for Myeonnie.” He nudges at Junmyeon’s ear with his nose. Junmyeon’s reflection tries not to smile. “Maybe I’ll even give you a kiss at the door if you’re a good enough date.”  
  
Junmyeon tilts his head to bump against Chanyeol’s. “You think I want to kiss that mouth?”  
  
“You think you’re getting more than a peck on the cheek?” Chanyeol counters. It’s so tempting to wrap his arms around Junmyeon, but they do need to get going, and shower hugs are probably better than grimy sticky hugs out here. He plants both hands on Junmyeon’s hips intending to squeeze and step away, but that was a bad move too. Tiny Junmyeon, too huggable for his own good. Not all that marry-able, maybe, but Chanyeol’s already made up his mind.  
  
“Food and bed sounds nice,” Junmyeon agrees through an aptly timed yawn. They should probably move, but he’s already leant back against Chanyeol now. He’s soft and warm and Junmyeon’s too sleepy to resist. “I’d apologise for giving you the extra work on your wall, but it wasn’t entirely my fault.”  
  
Chanyeol hums. He’d been scowling the entire time he cleaned that patch up, but he’s smiling now. “My fault for assuming you could just stand in one spot and not create mess, huh. So all my fault. I should know better.”  
  
_This is the man you want to marry_ , Junmyeon thinks, bites it back, sees his reflection in the mirror getting pink again under the dried and cracked smear of paint. Ok so maybe he doesn’t hate the idea of it all that much now he’s had, like, half an hour to get used to it. “You really should,” he says instead, tilting back and claiming his kiss before finding out if he was a good enough date or not.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ! ☀ at [tumbl](https://taonsil.tumblr.com) ❀ [twt](https://twitter.com/taonsil) if you wanna talk or be buried in suyeol


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